Merton: On Suffering

Wise words from a wise man indeed.

Indeed, the truth that many people never understand, until it is too late, is that the more you try to avoid suffering, the more you suffer, because smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you, in proportion to your fear of being hurt. The one who does most to avoid suffering is, in the end, the one who suffers the most: and his suffering comes to him from things so little and so trivial that one can say that it is no longer objective at all. It is his own existence, his own being, that is at once the subject and the source of his pain, and his very existence and consciousness is his greatest torture. This is another of the great perversions by which the devil uses out philosophies to turn our whole nature inside out, and eviscerate all our capacities for good, turning them against ourselves.

Thomas Merton, The Seven Story Mountain Pg. 91

And on another note;

Life is truly much sweeter when you have someone to share it with.

And this...

is what I am craving for.

Weekend Project: Light Proofing

Half Light-Proofed French Doors

I consider myself somewhat of an expert in DIY Home Improvement nowadays. Staying in 3rd grade student accommodation helps train that side of you.

Since moving into this current room, I have been woken up unceremoniously in the early morning by the sunlight filtering through the French doors that open onto the balcony.

While the natural light is well appreciated in the day time, it officially wears out its welcome when it intrudes into my dreamtime.

So I started on a Weekend Project to light-proof the above mentioned French doors. Multifunctional Blu-Tack with expired thick calendar paper easily allowed me to accomplish my mission.

Crossed fingers for a all better night sleep.

Completely Light-Proofed Doors for a Good Nights' Sleep

My Next Chapter

Some days I wake up feeling blessed and plentiful. More than ever, I realise the existence of life and the frailty of it and commend myself on my ability to have survived till now.

Some days I wake up damned and banished. My world dark and grey and prospects non-existing. I loathe the living I have yet to do and frown upon the life that I have thus far led.

Today was none of these.

Today I woke up with the beginning of a lovely letter that starts as such...

Dear Dreamboat

And it continues naturally on...

I wonder how I love thee...

Have I been poisoned by the new-found love of the people I know? Am I lost in the seas of the many years past? Have I been muddled by age?

And I realise... the shape of the love I offer, be it platonic, romantic or lustful, is constantly changing, even when it remains in its rightful category. In the past, I have transited between different forms somewhat ignorantly, but I do realise the change on hindsight.

This is however the first time I am observing the change while it is happening. How crippling and humbling at the same time.

And till my love takes the form of the shape that it is destined to be. I am waiting for my next chapter.

Book: Kafka on the Shore

Recently I have been addicted.

Does that explain my unexplainable absence yet?

It is a book that comes across as simple and straight forward, but upon application of some thought process it becomes a strangely addictive dose of surrealism that draws you in. I generally hate books with animals, particularly cats or dogs as a central theme... but this one, undeniable.

Here is an extract, after reading which I was thoroughly baited and hooked.

"In ancient times people weren't simply male or female, but one of three types: male/male, male/female, or female/female. In other words each person was made out of the components of two people. Everyone was happy with this arrangement and never really gave it much thought. But then God took a knife and cut everyone in half, right down the middle. So after that the world was divided just into male and female, the upshot being that people spend their time running around trying to locate their missing other half."

"Why did God do that?"

"Divide people into two? You got me. God works in mysterious ways. There's that whole wrath-of-God thing, all that excessive idealism and so on, My guess is it was punishment for something. As in the Bible. Adam and Eve and the Fall and so on"

"Original sin," I say.

"Thats's right, original sin." Oshima holds his pencil between his middle and index fingers, twirling it ever so slightly as if testing the balance. "Anyway, my point is that it's really hard for people to live their lives alone."

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